


Early Morning Blues and Greens

by bashert



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Post-Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bashert/pseuds/bashert
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"You two okay?" He asked in a gentle voice, crossing over and kneeling in front of them, placing a soft hand on Mac's knee.</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"I'm having a bit of a morning," Mac confessed.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Early Morning Blues and Greens

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ehc6j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehc6j/gifts).



> I know I need to reply to comments, and I know I have another story in progress, BUT this was written (rather hastily) for Emily C. and I thought she deserved it today. The title comes from the song by the Monkees, because sure, why not?

MacKenzie closed her eyes, took deep breaths, and counted to ten.

Hopefully, she thought, when she opened her eyes back up she would feel less like committing homicide.

"Mac? Can you go get Charlie dressed? She's refusing to put on underwear, and I just don't have time this morning," Will started, and she tightened her grip on her coffee mug (it was _his_ turn to get Charlotte dressed this morning. It had taken Mac an hour and fourteen minutes to get her dressed the previous morning- Charlotte was in a new phase where she didn't want to put on any clothes- and the two of them had been switching off mornings in order to help maintain their sanity).

"Mommy!" Charlotte wailed from the vicinity of her bedroom.

"Seriously, Mac, have you seen my phone?" Will added.

"MOMMY!" Charlotte's yells intensified.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven,_ nope.

Her eyes popped back open to find Will tearing apart the kitchen in search of his wayward phone, and Mac decided that she didn't have the energy to worry about the mess that her husband was making. Instead she squared her shoulders, and headed down the hall to Charlotte's bedroom for what she knew was going to be an epic battle of wills.

Her three year old was completely naked, her tiny body sprawled out face down on her bed, clothes flung everywhere.

"Darling," Mac said, kneeling down and placing a gentle hand on the small of Charlie's back. "We have to get dressed."

"It felt _funny_ ," Charlotte insisted with a shudder.

"The clothes Daddy picked out?" Charlie nodded her head, sitting up and throwing herself at Mac, whose reflexes were, luckily, fast enough to catch her. "Well, sweetheart, let's just pick out new clothes."

"They _all_ feel funny," Charlotte cried.

Mac felt a headache coming on. This was the very _last_ thing she needed. She had a meeting with Pruitt that morning that it was becoming increasingly clearer that she was going to be late for (if she made it at _all),_ followed by a meeting with Jane Barrow (which was always heaps of fun), and then a finance meeting (finance meetings were not exactly an area where she shined. Put her in the control room of a broadcast and she kicked ass, but put a spreadsheet with numbers and figures in front of her and she felt a little out of her league), and she had been felled by a nasty bout of morning sickness as soon as she woke up (how in the world was she going to do this with _two_ of them? What in the hell had she been thinking? Was she out of her fucking mind?).

She felt like crying (god _damn_ hormones), and she bit down hard on her lip to stop from sobbing.

"Charlotte, sweetheart, you _have_ to get dressed. There must be something that feels okay to wear," Mac was doing her best to maintain her cool. But logic, unfortunately, didn't always work so well on toddlers.

"No!" Charlotte exclaimed.

"Charlie," Mac tried again.

"THEY FEEL FUNNNNY," Charlotte's voice was hitting a note that only dogs could hear, and Mac winced.

"Charlotte James McAvoy!" Mac snapped. "Get dressed right _now_!" And Charlie's bottom lip wobbled as she threw herself out of Mac's arms and back down onto the bed.

"You _yelled_ at _meeeeee_ ," Charlotte sobbed.

_Fuck it,_ Mac thought.

And she burst into tears herself.

The sight of her mother in tears alarmed Charlie, who climbed back into Mac's lap and patted her face with her chubby little hands.

"Don't cry, Momma, don't cry." Mac buried her nose in her daughter's hair and reminded herself that she was the adult.

She wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there, Charlie's arms wrapped around Mac's neck, her damp face tucked into Mac's neck, Mac absentmindedly running her fingers through Charlotte's soft, fine hair, when they heard Will clear his throat by the doorway. Both raised their bleary eyes, and blinked at him.

"You two okay?" He asked in a gentle voice, crossing over and kneeling in front of them, placing a soft hand on Mac's knee.

"I'm having a bit of a morning," Mac confessed.

"Momma?" Charlotte piped up.

"Yes, darling?"

"Can I wear my Belle dress?" The yellow Belle dress was one of the few things that Charlotte had been willing to wear lately, and it showed. It was becoming ratty, it was torn in a couple of places, but Mac was down to giving zero fucks.

"Absolutely, I think it's still in the bathroom, why don't you go find it?" Mac pressed a kiss to the top of Charlotte's head, and Charlie slid off her lap and ran towards the bathroom.

"It's dirty, isn't it?" Will asked, frowning slightly.

"I could give two shits that it's dirty," Mac replied matter-of-factly. Will dropped down to sit next to her, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder. "Are we crazy for going through this all again?"

"Yes," Will answered automatically, picking up her hand and tangling their fingers together. "But maybe this one will be willing to wear clothes."

"We can only hope," Mac said, turning her face to bury it in his shoulder.

"Seriously? You okay?" His voice was concerned, and she nodded.

"Just...a little overwhelmed. I have a meeting with Pruitt and then Jane Barrow, and then you know about that finance meeting, and it's just...a lot."

"Let's call off today," Will suggested, and Mac rolled her eyes. "I'm serious. Let's call off. You're the boss, you can do that."

"I don't think either Pruitt or Jane Barrow will take too kindly to being cancelled on," Mac argued, but it was halfhearted.

"Fuck 'em," Will replied.

"Will," Mac reasoned. Charlotte came flying back in, skidding to a stop in front of her parents, the Belle dress pulled on, and Mac noticed that it was even dirtier than she thought it was. Ice cream was smeared all over the front (that had to have been Will the other night when Mac had an unexpectedly late meeting), and it was fraying along the hem. All those cute dresses and outfits Mac bought, and her child decided to basically live in a princess costume that had seen better days.

_This is not the mountain I will die on_ , Mac thought, allowing herself to not care that her daughter looked rather unkempt.

"What you do you think about staying home with me and Mommy today?" Will asked his daughter, who shrieked in happiness.

"Please! Pleeeeease?" Charlotte wheedled.

"Come on, what do you say? McAvoy day off?" Will chimed in, and Mac caved.

"Okay, McAvoy day off," she agreed, and Charlotte squealed, throwing herself at Mac with enough force to knock her back onto the bed, and Mac tugged Will's arm, bringing him down with her, until they were a tangled mess of limbs.

It looked like her day wasn't going to be so bad after all.


End file.
